Summons from a General
by Supreme Distraction
Summary: /Tierkreis/ Shairah is Hell bent against Chrodechild being Danash’s fourth wife. Why would she be? He already possessed *three*. Well, The First Empress Consort had always been rather selfish…


Played this game. Wasn't very impressed. I did, however, gain some ideas for fiction from a few of the female characters I saw. This particular idea came to me during my first visit to the Magedome: Shairah obviously has a jealousy issue with Chrodechild being lusted after. But why? Her hubby already has three–and has had a child with his third wife—why be upset over one more?

Please excuse any inaccuracies, but there isn't a lot of info about the characters in game or on the net.

Disclaimer: Suikoden Tierkreis is owned by Konami. Not me. If it was… well, I would have changed a few things!

**--Summons from a General--**

The Blade of Night's Veil's outpost was located east of the Imperial Palace; the four winding dirt roads that one had to follow to get from point A (the palace) to point B (the outpost) were currently being traversed by a tall, flame-haired, dark-skinned male clad in Mage garb.

Dodging a fruit vendor's cart, the red-head dashed into a narrow alleyway and hooked a sharp right into an open doorway.

Green eyes blinked rapidly as they adjusted to the contrast between sunlight and lamplight, words working out of his throat:

"Chrodechild!" His voice ricocheted off of the black-tiled walls and floor.

The main room—the one he was currently in—was where the Blade's took care of requests. It was quite a large room, furnished with a low table and cushions to sit on around it and a few indigenous plants in pots. Mage arts caused the glowing lamps to bob gently near the ceiling.

Panting, the man jogged across the room, the _'slap' _of his sandal clad feet echoing loudly. There was a shoji tucked away in a corner, partially hidden by a leafy plant; he slid it open and stepped onto a dimly lit stair.

At its end, he came to a circular room, its walls covered with a mural of warriors locking in fierce combat, that split into two more paths—one leading to the left and one to the right.

He groaned, muttering, "What is it with these people and passageways?"

"'These people' enjoy their privacy," came an amused bass. "How can the Blades assist you, Asad?"

The man that entered the room was in his mid-twenties; very handsome with a strong jaw, blue eyes, and chestnut-toned locks secured in a ponytail. The loose black haori and hakamas he wore were standard wear for the Blades though the sea-toned breast plate, networked with a pattern in gold, covering the entirety of his torso was not—most warriors preferred lighter armour.

"Meruvis," Asad greeted. "I'm looking for commander Chrodechild. Is she here?"

The brunette frowned thoughtfully. "Roberto isn't in the front room?"

"No one is."

Meruvis sighed, gesturing to the right. "The commander is that way. Take the first left and go down three doors.

"Thank you."

They split up, Meruvis heading the way Asad had come while the Mage followed the directions he had been given.

(break)

When Asad found her, Chrodechild was sheathing her blade. Around her, roughly in a circle, were four young men, each flushed from exertion and panting.

"Good job today," the woman praised, pushing blonde hair from her face. She hadn't even broken a sweat. "We'll continue tomorrow."

They each stood—taller though they were younger—and bowed respectfully to the woman before exiting the room.

When electric green eyes alighted upon the still-panting Mage, she smiled. "Asad. What brings you to the Blade outpost?"

He didn't answer for a moment, too caught up in appreciating her beauty: like the other Blades, she wore a black haori trimmed with dark blue, and then with light blue. She wore cloth pants of the same pattern, rather than hakamas; normally tucked into her boots and covered with shin guards, they hung freely at the moment. The top of her head reached his chin.

"Asad?"

Prying his eyes away from the young woman's body, the man wracked his brains for the reason behind his visit. He had dashed all the way here to…

"Lady Shairah!"

"Lady Shairah?" Elegant eyebrows drew together. "What's wrong? Is she in trouble?"_ Please tell me nothing has happened…_

He shook his head vehemently. "No, she desires an audience with you."

"With _me_?" The incredulity in her tone was justified—it was a well known fact that no love was lost between the First Empress Consort and the potential Fourth.

"Yes. As soon as you're ready, we should go."

Half an hour later found the two walking side-by-side down the grand hallway of the Imperial Palace. Servants bearing various objects swept by them, casting curious glances at the pair.

"Excuse me," Asad said to one of them.

The pretty young lady blushed slightly and curtsied. "Yes, sir?"

"Do you know where Lady Shairah is? She called for Commander Chrodechild."

A knowing look flashed across her face. "Ah. You must be Asad. Prince Shams would like to see you; Trill will escort you. Please come with me, Commander Chrodechild."

He blinked. "Bu—"

Another servant appeared at the first's side, taking the man by his arm. His mouth snapped shut as she tugged gently but forcefully at his arm. "This way, please."

As the Mage was lead away, the first servant turned to Chrodechild, chocolate-toned orbs sparkling with a playful light. "I am Lyae (Lee-ay; as in day), _Lady_ Chrodechild. Please, allow me to prepare you for your audience with the First Empress Consort."

"I am no lady," the blonde protested. '_Prepared'?_

Lyae ignored her, taking her by the elbow and leading her horizontally across the hallway. "Do not worry: when I am done with you will at least _feel _like one."

(break)

She had been bathed, her toenails and fingernails had been manicured and her body rubbed down with delectably scented oils.

Lyae had been proven correct.

Now clad in a thin silk robe (minus her bra), Chrodechild felt drowsiness tug at her eyelids—a result of the treatment coupled with the palace's tropical atmosphere.

_All this for a simple meeting with Lady Shairah? _The logical part of her mind asked. A large part of it had been lulled by the many soft hands that had patted and smoothed over her, however, and ignored the red flags that were going off.

"Lady Chrodechild?"

She looked up. It was Lyae.

"If you are ready, Lady Shairah is waiting for you."

The diminutive blonde rose and followed the brunette. She was lead out of the immense bathroom (more like an indoor spring than anything) and back to the grand hallway; they crossed it horizontally, once again, to the opposite side and stopped at wide mahogany double doors, lacquered with a sun in gold and reddish tones.

One was open inward a crack and two voices floated out:

"That isn't fair! You always get to have all the fun…"

"Now, now, you will receive your turn soon enough."

Lyae knocked on the door before pushing it the remainder of the way inwards to reveal the First and Third Empress Consort.

The first voice belonged to Kureyah, the Third Empress Consort. She was tan like her husband, her blonde hair secured in a bun. Aquamarine eyes flicked to Chrodechild, then quickly away as though she was nervous about something.

The second voice was huskier than the first with a playful edge. It could have only belonged to the First Empress Consort and the reason for Chrodechild's presence: Shairah. The woman was also blonde, though her skin wasn't quite as dark as her husband's. Her eyes also flicked to Chrodechild, but they didn't move away—quite the opposite. Lilac orbs focused on the shorter woman; she was unable to read the emotion in them.

"Chrodechild, Commander of the Blades of Night's Veil has arrived, General Shairah."

_General? _The Blade dropped onto one knee, bowing respectfully to her superior.

"Please." Amusement coloured her tone. "You heard Lyae: "General". You forget that I am Commander -in-Chief of the Mage Forces? We are equals either way, _Princess_ Chrodechild."

Green eyes blinked. _Equals…? Since when did she consider me as such?_

The other women vacated the room quietly, the brunette closing the door with a strangely decisive _'click'_.

"I could hardly be considered a princess any longer," Chrodechild said, rising to her feet. Shairah was still looking at her and it was making her nervous.

The First gave an unladylike snort at that. Instantly, her demeanor and way of speaking became less formal as it usually did when she wasn't around the Palace or the people that inhabited it. "Yeah, yeah, whatever you say."

She strode away from the blonde commander, gesturing for her to follow. "These are my private quarters, you like?"

The room she referred to was _huge_—big enough to hold a family of four let alone a single person. The walls were draped with exotic silks and oil paintings and furs cushioned the females' feet. Lamps floated around the room's perimeter, their dim light giving it an intimate air.

But the detail that stood out most was the bed. It wasn't really a bed, so to speak, but an indent in the floor filled with pillows.

"It's nice."

Shairah lowered herself with the grace of a big cat onto her stomach on top of said pillows; threaded her fingers together and rested her chin on them, propping her upper half up on her elbows. This provided a wonderful view of her cleavage, completely unhindered by the low-cut top she wore. "Please, have a seat," she invited.

The shorter blonde hesitated, seeing as the only place to sit was on—in?—Shairah's bed, thinking that this was hardly acceptable. In the end, she sat gingerly, as far from the taller blonde as she could.

"I've been meaning to talk to you about my husband," Shairah said after studying her companion for a moment.

Chrodechild shifted uncomfortably. "I have no intention of accepting his proposal, you know that."

Lilac orbs now sparkled with amusement though the light from before hadn't faded. "Yeah, I know. Now that I think about it, maybe ya should?"

_What!? _The surprise must have showed on her face because the First Empress Consort chuckled, her full lips twisting into a smirk.

"There's no need to look at me like that. I'm just suggestin' that because it would benefit the both of us."

"How so?" she asked, finding her voice at last.

It was astonishing how quickly the First Empress Consort managed to move; in an instant, she had Chrodechild pinned by her wrists, her thighs on either side of the shorter blonde's torso.

It would seem Shairah had been correct: Chrodechild had forgotten that she was a warrior as well as a lady.

"You see," the taller woman was saying conversationally. "The only problem I have with you marryin' my husband and all that is the fact that I _really _don't like sharing.

"'Sharing'?" She was so surprised that she didn't bother trying to break free of the other woman's grip. Yet.

"Mhmm." She was leaning in closer. "Tell me something, _Commander_: ya ever played for the other team?"

Electric green orbs widened. "W-what do you mean?"

But that was obvious, wasn't it? The heat of the older woman's body and her closeness conveyed her intentions better than shining letters strewn across the freakin' sky could have.

"I think you know exactly what I mean." Shairah's voice was a husky purr; lilac had darkened to violet. Now Chrodechild had no trouble labeling that look.

Lust.

Lust for _her _of all people.

She didn't have time to consider the incredibleness of the situation because soft lips were pressing into hers and a warm tongue was sweeping over her bottom lip, requesting entry.

_Shairah… _Her soft sigh was muffled by the other woman's tongue as it danced with her own.

Despite popular beliefs—all of them having to do with her steadfastness, determination to complete her duties as a Blade, and quiet persona—Chrodechild was no stranger for hunger of a more… carnal persuasion. Just because she didn't act on it, didn't mean it wasn't there.

Upon their first meeting, the young Blade had fallen head-over-heels for the busty, blonde bombshell, but the difference in their ranks (she really didn't consider herself a princess anymore—not when her kingdom was lost) and the fact that Shairah had seemed to dislike her greatly from the get-go (not to mention the fact that she was _married _to the _Emperor_) prevented her from showing even a little bit of that attraction.

Now, the feelings that had long-since been buried unearthed themselves and she broke Shairah's grip to wrap her arms around the First's neck, pulling her down so that they were flush against one another. Every unspoken word; every lost chance; every heated glance she had snuck in; every bit of what she had believed to be an unrequited love was put into this single meeting of lips.

When they pulled apart they were, needless to say, breathless.

_This isn't proper! _The logical part of her mind screamed. She had spent so many years heeding it—so many years missing out.

_Oh, be quiet._

Shairah was grinning, her eyes heavy-lidded. "Is it safe to say you agree with me? That this little arrangement will work out?"

"And if he expects me to act as a wife should?" She really didn't want to be rational right now, but it was in her nature. She just wanted to say 'yes' and move on to kissing the breath from Shairah's lungs—amongst other things.

"We'll figure it out."

That was good enough for her lust-addled brain.

Another searing, if not shorter, kiss was planted on the taller woman's lips before Chrodechild began a path of kisses down the side of her throat. The purple top Shairah normally wore consisted of a strip of cloth that covered her breasts; more cloth covered her arms from the upper arm and down as well as her back and sides. Her collarbone, shoulders, and abdomen were easily accessible.

"Have I mentioned that I love this shirt?" the green-eyed blonde murmured against the other woman's flesh. Shairah only groaned as Chrodechild's tongue flicked out and traced down to where skin ended and cloth began. Her hands weren't idle: they slid down to the loose cloth pants the Empress wore and undid the tie that kept them around her waist, pulling them down to her knees so that they could cup and massage her bottom.

As Shairah's back arched, her breasts were presented in such a way that the Blade couldn't resist wrapping her lips around one of her nipples through the cloth; the quiet moan of encouragement she received was enough to urge Chrodechild to remove the top completely.

The Blade couldn't help but stop and stare, the deliciously curved shape of Shairah's mostly-naked body driving home the enormity of the situation:

She, a technical civilian, was going to have sex with Shairah, the First Empress Consort.

_Royalty_.

The Emperor's right hand woman.

The woman who could end her freedom in an instant if she so chose to.

The woman that could have entire cities destroyed with the snap of well manicured fingers.

"_Chrodechild._" That throaty, pleading tone wiped the Blade's mind clean of anything save the warm body beneath her and the effect it was having on her body.

Leaning down to kiss Shairah again, Chrodechild swallowed the little sounds of pleasure her questing fingers elicited; they tweaked a nipple before raking down the woman's flat abdomen on their path to her underwear. When they cupped the front of substantially wetted cloth, Shairah broke away to gasp.

Smiling slightly, the Blade stroked the taller blonde through the fabric, reveling in the musky aroma that filled her nostrils as Shairah writhed beneath her.

"Stop… teasing." The First managed, pinning Chrodechild with a glare. The effect was ruined due to the fact that lilac orbs were hazed with lust, shutting half-way as the younger woman added pressure to her stroking.

"I'm not," she murmured in response. "I want to savour this."

Despite her words, she nudged the cloth aside, stroking the heated flesh of Shairah's southern lips directly. At the same time, her lips closed around the pebbled flesh of the woman's nipple, suckling in the manner of a newborn—drawing a low moan from the female's throat and causing her fingers to entwine themselves in short blonde tresses.

She switched nipples, her hand coming up to knead the breast she had abandoned as she slid a single digit into the First Empress Consort, burying it up to the second knuckle. The heat she emitted was incredible, that combined with the tight grip of her heated passage causing Chrodechild to loose a quiet moan of her own.

"More," Shairah whimpered.

Adding her middle finger, Chrodechild waited until lilac eyes opened before pulling back and thrusting into the woman's waiting warmth.

All at once, the taller woman shifted her weight, removing her fingers, and pinning Chrodechild beneath her for the second time in less than five minutes. Her robe was practically ripped from her body as the impatient Empress leaned in to french her hungrily; their tongues wrestled, twisting against one another hotly. Tearing herself away from the addicting taste of Chrodechild's lips, Shairah nipped her way down the slim column of the other woman's neck, leaving reddish marks that would bruise purple later.

"Mine now," Shairah purred, the delightful sting of pain on Chrodechild's collarbone emphasizing her words. "All mine."

Her thigh slipped between the Blades, straddling her so that her own wetness was grinding against the muscles—subtle under smooth, pale skin—a life of fighting had given the shorter blonde even as Chrodechild pressed her lower half upwards, seeking sweet friction. Her underwear were yanked down, their removal making the pressure that much more intense.

Both parties moaned. A rhythm was started, each female rocking, seeking the explosion of pleasure they knew existed at the end of the heat that coiled in their loins.

Shairah was the first to find it; she threw her head back and let out a moan that made the hairs on the back of Chrodechild's neck stand up as she screwed her eyes shut and squeezed whatever was in her reach: the Blade's breasts.

The mixture of friction against her lower lips and rough treatment of her breasts caused Chrodechild to come as well, white light dancing at the edges of her sight.

When both women had calmed, Shairah rolled off of her new-found lover, pulling the diminutive blonde close so that her head was pillowed by the inviting mounds of flesh that were the Empress' breasts.

"Thank you," Chrodechild murmured, her breath hot against the other woman's flesh.

A tremor went through her headrest as Shairah chuckled. "Let me catch my breath and I'll really give you a reason to thank me."

**Days later…**

Asad was hurt needless to say—it was obvious he had possessed (and still did) feelings for her—, but Chrodechild knew he'd get over it in time. He wanted her happiness and, with Shairah, she was most definitely happy.

Meruvis and the other Blades had been happy that their princess had finally shown signs of settling down and producing an heir, though Meruvis was the only one Chrodechild told about Shairah.

Danash had been shocked and elated when she had accepted his proposal and, despite the sinking feeling in her stomach when they had stood at the altar, she kept the panic out of her features because this union would ensure she would always be close to Shairah.

So long as that remained true, she was sure she could make it through this—make it through whatever would come—somehow.

**--Fin--**

So, what'd you think? Feel free to hit the "review" button and let me know.


End file.
